How?
by DemonicPiano
Summary: Alfred notices something is different about his brother, but Matthew does not know what is going on either. Oneshot, crackfic!
_Author's Note: Nothing is meant to be taken seriously...Believe me, this was as weird to write as it is to read, but I did it anyway! Horray?_

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I can't put my thoughts to it, but something was... _different_ about my brother. He was standing there, being Canadian as usual, yet not so much in the sense of an added presence. I stared, unable to help it, at his swollen stomach. Either he has been getting fed really well, (and he better tell me where all this food is coming from), or one of my many fears have came true; Matthew swallowed a watermelon seed, and there is one growing inside his stomach right at this moment.

"Mattie," I began very slowly, my throat growing thick. "Did you...eat any watermelons recently?"

My brother snapped his head in my direction, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "No. Why would you ask that?" One of his hands clamped onto his stomach, and his eyes widened. "Because it looks like it?! Alfred, don't be rude."

"What? I'm not!" I whined. He made a light noise of disgust and turned his face away. "You're huge!"

"Al! Can't you be more tactful for once in your life?"

 _I thought I was!_ "Um...you put on some weight."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Not much better," he grumbled.

I felt my mouth pull down. "You're more grumpier than usual," I noted, jabbing his stomach.

My hand was harshly smacked away. He curled his other arm around it protectively. "That's what happens when you are pregnant!"

 _Wait what_. "Huh? What did you just say?"

"You heard me," my brother grumbled.

Laughter burst from my mouth. He flinched from the sounds, not finding humor in his words like I did. How did he manage a straight face like that?! "Whew! Okay, Mattie!" I wiped at tears threatening to spill, inwardly wishing I had that stoic capability. "You know, if you were hungry enough to eat a whole watermelon, I have no room to judge-"

"I'm being serious!" Matthew's voice crackled with its raised volume.

I held up my hands against his not-so-polite Canadian scorn. "All right, all right. I don't know what you heard, but dudes can't get preggers. You're a dude. So you aren't pregnant."

"Sure, Al. Tell that to the baby inside my stomach."

I leaned in, staring at the fabric stretching over my brother's abdomen. "Um, baby, infant thing, you can't be here. It's scientifically impossible."

Matthew punched my head. Hard. My glasses went askew with the surprising force. Does he actually lift in his spare time? "I was being sarcastic! Don't put an existential crisis on my child before it's even out of my stomach!"

"Ow, ow!" I yelped, grabbing the offended area with one hand, and fixing my lens with the other. "Why didn't you say so, bro?"

"You're an idiot!" He snarled, turning away with his arms awkwardly crossed above his belly.

I like to call it selective intelligence; after all, no one can be smart 24/7. They would need snack breaks! "Come on," I pleaded, but my brother only gave me a side glare. I decided to change the subject. "How?"

"Hmm?" Matthew glanced in my direction. "How what?"

"How did you...you know," I limply gestured to his stomach, "get like that."

Matthew blankly stared. "I swallowed a watermelon seed."

I gasped. "No way! I knew it! Mattie, I told you not to eat the black ones!"

"No!" He snapped, his foot stomp louder than his words, "I got pregnant the same way everyone else did! I think..."

"What do you mean you think? You don't...remember getting pregnant?"

My brother looked as puzzled as I felt. "It was rather unclear."

"You said the same way everyone else did," I pointed out. He nodded, but before he said anything, I blurted, "By a stork!"

"What?"

"A stork!"

"Al, storks bring the parents their baby. How can a stork bring me my baby, if it's still inside me?"

 _...Shit!_ He got me there! Yet I couldn't let him see that; I'd look uncool! I cackled, "A stork got you pregnant!"

Matthew took a step back, appearing to be horrified. Unless the baby kicked really hard at that moment... "Al! No! I don't...no storks!"

"Yeah, they're probably busy anyway," I persuaded myself. "So how else could you gotten like this?"

"I'm more worried about how I'm going to get the baby out," my brother made wide circles with his hands against his swollen stomach.

"If you didn't swallow a watermelon seed, and there's no stork scandal involved, _and_ you don't remember, how did you get pregnant?" I gasped, "Maybe the dad knows!"

"I am the dad," Matthew pointed out.

"Dude, no. Dad's don't have babies in their stomachs. You're a mom, Mattie."

"Am not!"

"Are too!" I stuck my tongue out. My brother opened his mouth to retort, when a body fell out of the ceiling that was above us. Since when was there a ceiling? Does that mean we are indoors, or still outside? Were we even outside in the first place?

The guy groaned, shakily lifting himself off the ground. Matthew leaped out of the chair he was sitting in, even though he was just standing in front of me a few moments ago, and hurried as fast as he could with his big ol' belly, to the fallen man.

"Dude, you look weird," I called out, following after him.

The albino flashed a thumbs up. "That's because I'm awesome." He turned to my brother, on his feet without even having to lift himself from the ground. "Who are you?"

Matthew sighed, "Did you really have to ask that?"

"Who are _you_?" I asked him.

"I'm the baby's dad," the newcomer grinned, puffing out his chest proudly.

"We have never met before," my brother shook his head. "How is that possible?"

"Hey, I just fell out of a ceiling generated at this given moment in time, and managed to not even have any dirt on me, mostly because my awesomeness, but anyway, you're asking me what's possible?!"

"Why are _you_ the dad, and not someone either of us know?" I asked.

The man shrugged. "Popular demand?"

Matthew stamped a foot on the ground again, though he does usually do that, so I don't know why he did that. Maybe the baby was making him do it! "I already told you, _I'm_ the dad!"

"I don't think so," the dude said. "I'm the dad."

"Wait, guys," I held my hands out in sudden realization. "If you're the dad...and Mattie's the dad...who's making the pancakes?"

A horrible cloud of black smoke just happened to appear around us at that time, carrying the smell of burned food and tea for some reason. Matthew's eyes widened, in distinguishable horror this time. "Oh no..."

"Oh no, what?" The white haired guy glanced between the both of us.

"Arthur!" My brother and I called out at the same time, which was kinda funny, if we haven't been enveloped in a giant explosion. I don't know how overcooking pancakes managed to create a catastrophe like that, but we're supposed to be dead at this moment on, so I shouldn't be saying anything else.


End file.
